


Wind [English version]

by Aki_Sei, Oberyn2206



Category: Tanz der Vampire - Steinman/Kunze
Genre: Angst, Angst more than fluff, Family, Family Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-20
Updated: 2017-06-20
Packaged: 2018-11-16 09:32:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11250369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aki_Sei/pseuds/Aki_Sei, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oberyn2206/pseuds/Oberyn2206
Summary: [Based on the backstory of Herbert von Krolock]What if Herbert had never been turned into a vampire? What if, after being bitten, Herbert had never survived, and everything was nothing more than the imagination of Graf von Krolock? No Tanz incident, no vampires ball, no vampires hunters, no... Herbert von Krolock the vampire...Everything that happened was only a dream of Graf von Krolock...





	Wind [English version]

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aki_Sei](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aki_Sei/gifts).



> The original version of this story belongs @Aki_Sei, and I have the honor and permission to translate it into English. The idea came up when I listened to the song "Beszél a szél - The wind spoke", and Aki decided to give it a try.
> 
> Great job, Aki! Keep writing!

_Oh, wind. The wind spoke…_

 

The mountains of Transylvania.

A cloudy night.

A giant, magnificent castle.

Wide opened windows.

Wind.

 

The round moon was covered with a thin coat made of cloud, made the sneaking desolated light-beams look so lively when they reached the ground. Together with the clouds, they danced happily, shone the ground surrounding the castle to each piece of land. The wind glided past the pond, made the water wavy with naughty waves. The wind played with the wild grass, made them lie down every now and then, but soon reached up for the sky again. The wind blew through the trees, made the leaves susurrate whispers of nature.   

The cool wind of the night brushed the skin, blew through the long hair of a man standing by a window left unclosed, made some strands tossed slightly over his face.

He closed his eyes.

.

 

.

 

.

“Your hair is tangled, papa!” A sweet, childish voice echoed the hallway. “Papa, hurry, come in!” An angel, no, a boy with silver hair and bright eyes, reached out his hands to pull the imposing man inside, gently pushed him down the soft bordeaux red sofa. The boy quickly climbed on the sofa, his voice was demanding: “Papa, turn your head around, let me comb your hair!”

The man burst out a small laugh, settled himself still so the child could play with his hair as much as he pleased.

As the boy had done, the man gently turned around, hugged the little boy in a tight embrace. “Thank you.” The boy giggled in his father’s arms. Being satisfied with his playful tossing about, the boy held his fingers up to pinch his father’s nose. “Remember to go to bed early, papa. I’m going to sleep now.” So saying, he jumped off his father’s lap, giggling while running out of the room. The man’s gaze followed the the little child, his tender deep blue eyes were full of love.

 

.

 

Had gently closed the boy’s bedroom door, the man lightly stepped, quickened his pace along the long corridor, tried not to make any noise which could wake the angelic boy sleeping soundly. The boy was the most wonderful present that life ever gave him, the most beautiful thing belonged to him.

_Creaking._

The cracking sound of the old sofa echoed the silent space, caught the attention of the man. On the bordeaux red sofa, a soft and elegant woman with bright hair just like the boy’s was smiling at him. Perhaps she had been here for a while, because the oil lamp on her hands had far went out.

“Have you been here for a long while? Are you cold, why don’t you close the windows?” The man asked softly, as his hands tucked the windblown slovenly scarf neatly around the woman’s neck, then took off his cloak to cover those tender yet weak shoulders of her. The woman gently reached out her hand and touched his cheek. Her palm was warm against his cold skin, brought him a wonderful sensation. Her eyes were filled with happiness, oh those eyes which could smile that he always loved and appreciated. Slightly taking hold of the big shirt collar, she stood up, tip-toed, so she could kiss the forehead of the tall man, the most important man of her life, the man whom she voluntarily devoted everything for.  “I’m going to sleep.” The woman smiled blissfully. “Love you.”

.

 

.

 

.

A strong rough wind whipped open the windows, blew off even the heavy curtains, battered at the man’s long hair. The hair was long and black, spray-like with white strands, just like the deep black night sky, mystical and fanciful with sparkling bright stars.

Only the music of the wind could be heard.

Shadows grew greater in sky blue eyes.

.

 

.

 

.

 

Red.

Raging red tinted the world.

Peaceful blue eyes of the past now filled with fury red.

And she.

She was flooded in red blood, as well.

All the waiting and suffering of her had finally been responded. She had made it till he came to her. But life was cruel, and now she had nothing but to leave him. Her body was painful, but her heart hurt more than that. She didn’t ever wish to go. Not even a bit.

For him.

For their little angle.

 

.

 

Black.

The world that the man had known grew darker than ever before.

The light from those eyes that smiled was fading.

And he.

He could feel himself being engulfed by darkness.

Every single attempt of his had been denied by the highly yet ironic God himself. He had made it on time to be beside her, had been so full of hope to save her. But life was cruel, and because of him, now she had to leave the world even sooner. He wished to go with her. Whole-heartedly. But he could not.

For his promise for her.

For their little angel.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

All the pain, even shame that he had to carry had finally started to decease, as he watched that little figure growing up day by day.

Silver hair with those eyes could smile.

He could feel being reborn, bit by bit.

“You do not have to worry anymore. I will always protect the present you leave for me.”

A peaceful wind gentle blew by. Warm. Just like her hands.

 

.

 

What had he done wrong?

Why had everything gone this bad?

 

.

 

Red.

Raging red tinted the world.

Tender love in deep blue eyes had been replaced with fury red.

And I.

I was flooded in red blood, as well.

All the pain and suffering of me were all worth, dear father. You always held me tight, yet tender, how tender and loving, as if I were still that little boy from those days had passed, I felt so warm and safe in your arms. I didn’t wish to go. Not even a bit.  

For you, father, and mother.

For I would always be your angel.

 

.

 

Black.

The brightening world that I hoped suddenly grew dark.

The light from those eyes that smiled was fading.

And I.

I could feel myself being engulfed by darkness.

Every single care and worry of me, once again, had been denied by the highly yet ironic God himself. I promised to always protect you, because you were the treasure of your mother and me. How my heart and soul twisted and screamed in agony whenever you cried for mother, my beloved Herbert. I wished to go with your mother and you. Whole-heartedly. But I could not.

God is dead.

And I had to punish myself.

For having created too many faults.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

The cool wind of the night brushed the skin, blew through the long hair of a man standing by a window left unclosed, made some strands tossed slightly over his face.

He closed his eyes.

The beautiful dream came once more.

**Author's Note:**

> The song that inspired together with lyrics and translation here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BWppU0mmi6Y


End file.
